


Feels like Christmas

by Salat



Series: The Adventures of Blonde Twins [4]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salat/pseuds/Salat
Summary: His whole Christmas is far from perfect. First trainings and games, then the cold house he’s refused to decorate, because who cares if he doesn’t? Right, no one.
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen
Series: The Adventures of Blonde Twins [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513754
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Feels like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It’s based on prompts 'I can’t believe you did all this, for me’ and 'You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?’.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! Enjoy this little one shot and let me know if you liked it!

Playing in the Premier League means no Christmas, Bernd learns it pretty quickly. Therefore he doesn’t plan anything for these days and just keeps reminding himself that he’s happy the way he has it — as a first choice goalie for his team, as a player for the club, as a husband for Marc-Andre ter Stegen. Bernd as a grown up he is tells himself that he doesn’t love Christmas that much, that he’s not a kid anymore and that he can bear being without his family and Marc these days of the year. He tells that to Marc too, but there is no way ter Stegen is going to be fooled by these helpless attempts. Marc notices eventually that Bernd whines a little bit more through the phone and that his ‘I love you’s are more desperate and shaky than they usually are. Ant it’s only the beginning of December. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry”, Bernd’s face looks exhausted on the screen, but Marc can see nothing but his smile, also tired and small. He wants to taste it with his own lips, kissing Bernd on Christmas Eve, not even needing a mistletoe for an excuse. 

“Are you sure? It’s not the same this year”, Marc asks again. It’s their first Christmas in the new status and chances to spend it together are down to a minimum. Marc understands that in their world it’s all about football and only then about anything else. He also has that kind of determination, but he luckily doesn’t have games on Boxing Day. 

“Yeah, leave it”, Bernd responds with a yawn, his eyes blinking sleepily. His hair looks messy but soft at the same time and Marc feels his fingertips itching with the desire to touch it. 

Marc wants to spend this Christmas with Bernd, finally his husband, and with their families. He wants children to run around Christmas tree and laugh (not theirs obviously because they don’t have kids but nieces and nephews are good for now). He wants to rewatch ‘Frozen’, hiding his sobs on Bernd’s shoulder. He wants to sneak out of the place to make out with his husband while others look for them everywhere. 

The whole situation is frustrating. 

*

When the late December comes and La liga stops running that fast, Marc-Andre finally gets time to breath properly again. After the game against Alavés he spends two days laying on the couch, watching shitty Netflix and chatting with Bernd. Some texts remain unanswered, others just geta red heart emoji in response, but Marc doesn’t mind the lack of attention Bernd gives him. 

It’s crystal clear that Bernd doesn’t have to spend all his time just to be the best cliche of a husband in the world, they two are obviously too far away from the perfect image of a gay couple and Marc doesn’t want it to be that way either. He’s happy with what he has. Even if it means no Christmas with Bernd this year or any other year while Bernd is playing in England. 

He texts Marcel, asking about his plans for Christmas and receiving the invitation for him and Bernd to join the family diner. When he refuses to come because he doesn’t want to be a poor thing whose everyone asks where he has lost his other half, Marcel wonders if Marc is planning to spend these days with Bernd in England. 

The thought of coming there sounds familiar as if Marc had been thinking about it but then just forgot. And it hits him because he had. He doesn’t know why none of them has considered Marc coming to London. But now it seems like the only reasonable decision.

The next thing he knows is the tickets he adds to the Wallet on his iPhone, his finger hovering at the departure date. 

The 25th of December. Perfect. 

As far as he knows Bernd has training on Christmas Eve so Marc will be safe preparing the house for the little celebrating he’s planning already. He of course ends up not telling Bernd a single word because he decides it to be a proper surprise. As that one which now allows him to call the other goalie ‘his’ fully. 

He packs less stuff than he actually needs to make that an excuse to borrow some of Bernd’s. The airports are busy this time of the year, all people running and yelling, children crying and the staff looking exhausted. Nothing can actually kill Marc’s mood, but of course Heathrow is trying. It always does. 

Marc doesn’t really notice when the plane lands. In a blink of an eye he gets to the house in North London outskirts, twisting a key ring in his coat’s pocket, counting every piece it has and recollecting all the memories they bring to life. One key to his parents’ house in Mönchengladbach where they spent their first Christmas together as boyfriends, both shy and soft-spoken about the whole thing that had just started running. One to Bernd’s parents’ house where their son got down on one knee to propose to Marc two years later. One to his flat in Barcelona, where they had the most stupid argument in their life about flowers for the wedding hall. And then the last one to the house in North London where Marc’s heart belongs to right now.

Marc unlocks the door, letting out an exhale of relief when he has Bernd already at the Arsenal training ground. It’s still dark outside, the sunrise is set on 8.05 the weather app tells Marc. He comes inside to no Christmas tree and any hint of decorations. 

There is a lot of work to do before the other comes home. Marc spends all the time he has in a rush, preparing everything at the last minute, but he’s definitely not complaining because it keeps him distracted from the thoughts about Bernd’s reaction. 

But he doesn’t need to think about it, because it turns out to be even better than he has ever imagined. 

*

This year the weather plays some kind of tricks, not getting poor people any snow to enjoy the holidays. It’s too warm for winter Bernd thinks, but his whole Christmas is far from perfect. First trainings and games, then the cold house he’s refused to decorate, because who cares if he doesn’t? Right, no one. 

The conversations in the locker room after training on Christmas Eve make Bernd feel dizzy and envy, make him feel pity for himself. He’s the first of the team to make it to the car park and he gets out of here as fast as he can, speeding up a bit but not really paying attention to any road signs. Radio doesn’t get a chance to lighten his mood, because he turns it off at the first sights of Mariah Carey singing ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’. 

After parking the car in front of the house Bernd unlocks his phone and finds out that Marc hasn’t sent him anything since yesterday ‘good night’s. He thinks about writing something, anything, but then drops the idea because he doesn't want to remind Marc that they aren’t together right now. 

The house welcomes him with warm lights and the pine scent. Bernd thinks first that it’s not his home, but then he sees the reason of it named Marc-Andre ter Stegen, who’s smiling shyly to him. 

Bernd doesn't say a single word because he has none. He just makes two steps closer and catches Marc’s lips with his own. 

Their first kiss tastes like the spring water you drink after not having a single drop for a week. It’s like coming home to the welcoming flame in the fireplace, it’s chaste and simple and it’s also the whole world sparkling between their lips. Having to break it feels like actual pain and they part only for one erratic breath, coming back again, panting in each other’s mouth, but not having the power to stop. Marc curls his fingers around the back of Bernd’s neck to steady him a bit when he starts licking in Marc’s mouth like his life depends on it. They both know it somehow does right here right now. 

The lack of air makes them eventually create a decent gap between each other, but Bernd refuses to let Marc go that fast. He rests his forehead against Marc’s and pokes his nose with his own. 

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Bernd whispers, their lips still touching in the most tender way. 

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” Marc asks in the most serious voice he has. 

Bernd hums something incoherent in response and just leans closer again, stealing one-two-three little kisses from Marc’s lips and making that happy sound Marc hasn’t known he’s addicted to. Ter Stegen lets out a content sigh and tightens his grip around Bernd’s waist. 

Now it finally feels like Christmas.


End file.
